


The Witch of Mill Pond Road

by Missy



Category: Baby-Sitters Club - All Media Types, Baby-Sitters Club - Ann M. Martin
Genre: Bravery, Children's Stories, Fear, Gen, RAINSTORMS, Spooky, Stranded, Vignette
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-23
Updated: 2017-10-23
Packaged: 2019-01-21 19:29:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 410
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12464361
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Missy/pseuds/Missy
Summary: Kristy, Mary Anne and Charlie are stranded with some charges in an abandoned mill, and Mary Anne must bite back her fear to keep the children from panicking.





	The Witch of Mill Pond Road

**Author's Note:**

  * For [OzQueen](https://archiveofourown.org/users/OzQueen/gifts).



“They say that the Witch of Mill Pond lived in this house,” Mary Anne said, her knees tucked up under her quivering chin. She was terribly determined to stay brave for the sake of her charges, even though they were all chilly and wet from having run full-speed through the flooding rainstorm to the shelter of the old brick building. Charlie had started a fire in the small brick oven, which was starting to warm and dry up the place; Kristy had herded the children around the kitchen table, and had emptied her backpack onto it.

“There should be enough activity books in here to keep you guys busy,” she said. The kids were new to the neighborhood, four and three, and marginally drier thanks to Kristy sacrificing her windbreaker to keep them dry. “If you like, we can even tell ghost stories.” Kristy huffed a sigh and looked into the sopping wet grocery bag she’d brought with her. Satisfied, she looked up to see Mary Anne chattering by the fireplace. Her voice was gentle when she spoke up. “Mary Anne, don’t worry. That’s just a silly story people used to tell each other to keep them from hanging out down here. You know that they want to turn this place into a museum – if it were really haunted, do you think they’d go to all of that trouble?”

Mary Anne nodded. “I know. I know, it’s just my imagination,” she repeated with more confidence. The children, sitting in their mannered silence, the crayons scraping back and forth against the page, were too lost what they were doing to pay much attention.

“I’m going to go see if I can get the car going,” Charlie said. “If I can’t, there has to be somebody nearby who’ll give me a jump start.”

“Hurry back,” Kristy ordered. Mary Anne knew she’d drag the car back onto the road with her own two teeth if she could.

When Charlie left, Kristy gently shepherded the children close. She lit a couple of candles and poured out some of the apple cider she bought. “Come on, Mary Anne,” she encouraged. “Tell the kids what you know about the woman who lived here.”

Her mouth opened, and Mary Anne swore she heard it – the high thin cackle of a witch, taunting her. 

Swallowing hard, she stiffened her upper lip and counted to twelve. The tale spilled from her lips with confident boldness, though her voice shook.


End file.
